Keep Out

Some signs are like an invitation, even when they say Keep Out. This building might have been a mill once or perhaps a factory. The machinery inside would have roared and throbbed throughout the day, grinding up and spitting out. It was peoples’ lives, the thing that put food on their tables. Now it’s empty, the doors barred, the glass gone from the windows. It stands alone, marooned in the city, the younger and still beautiful buildings near at hand. It’s just an empty shell. And yet that sign. It threatens danger and promises secrets. It invites.

Damian